A warrior never looses the will to fight. Years may pass unnoticed by not practicing or even wielding a sword. But if threatened or attacked, the urge comes back as if you’ve never stopped at all.
I was desperate right now. I needed some way to over come this antagonizing fear. My right didn’t give much hope as it turned to be a stone wall. Looking to my left, I caught Osheianna’s stare. I grabbed her mind quickly praying Rayne would be preoccupied.
“I need weapons! We have to get out of here!”
She nodded quickly moving to a place I missed. The scene in front of me caught my attention as the black Lycin was nearly over top of me, protecting me on all sides- a cage that could attack efficiently.
“Akeanin, why protect something that has killed her own children? Her own flesh in sight of others. Must you always turn out to be the good boy?” Rayne was hitting nerves that should have been left well enough alone.
“Anika! Catch!” Osheianna threw the same falchions I haven’t used in 21 centuries when I gave up the horrible and fuzzy memories.
As I caught them, as my fingers grasped the leather bound hilts, my eyes slowly ran up the blades so sharp at the points, slicing through fur, cement and the paper like skin only making it feel like it was just minutes ago. Stomach curdling screams and smells. Blood splattering everywhere the falchions touched. All of those painful hidden memories flooded to the surface like a new spring emerging for the first time.
I felt the locked up power surge through me full force and I knew the one thing that had to be done. No one could do it but me. This new understanding was a rush of emotion that I couldn’t keep up with. I needed more of what I hadn’t had in a while first- more training.
I was hungry but not for food.
For the revenge I should have already taken a long time ago.
